Pre Writing

- Metallic and shining

- Might be metallic but is light

- Has hit me with nostalgia as it has been with me for a long period of time

- Is cold as it is a heat conductor and is not conducted with heat at the

moment

- Has a clinging sound due to metallic rings

- Is slightly worn out but it is still something I treasure a lot.

The Essential Container

My day has been long and I’m tired. I sit on this four-legged tool we call the

chair and stare blankly on my table plastered or should I say “decorated” with

things. They were things that I need, and things that I want and have wanted. My

eyes were scanning through the things I have, one by one. They were objects. But

I’ve had bonds with them. They were not living things, but they were there to aid

me. They were created for a reason, as we human beings have been created for a

purpose. They functioned as my very own helpers. Each and every one of them.

And then – something caught my attention. A hit of nostalgia slapped my face.

How could an object, just one object give me this feeling? There it was, standing

slanted and proud, like the leaning tower of pizza. Cylindrical but scarred with

dents. Its imperfections made it perfect in its own charm. My hands reached out

to it. Cling, cling cling you could hear the key chain rings greeting each other as I

gently swerve it left and right. And at the same time, you could hear the sound of

water.

Oh, how many times have I filled this object up with water – to contain

something so essential to my life. My bottle. This surprisingly light metallic

container, together with a plastic-rubbery cap, decorated with two keychain

rings has been there for me and is always with me in university and slightly

before that. I know that all bottles have the same function, but this particular

one has been with me too often to the point where my peers recognize them.

This object has been a part of me. It has been one of my characteristics.

Flashback intertwined memories, I remember the first time I saw it. It was

just there, standing solid on the shelf. Its silvery metallic, stainless steal body was

shining bright and proud, like a prince in his armor. Strong, and anti-rust too.

Whenever it fell to the ground, you could her it “clinging” in pain, forming dents

around its body. But still, strong enough to preserve – not forming and cracks or

holes.

I grip its body with my left hand, smooth and cold. Material made by a heat

conductor – which makes its body cold when filled with cold water and hot when

filled with hot water. But luckily, the water is cold this time. I then place my right

hand on the holes of the lid and twist it open, forming a squeaky sound made by

friction between the rubber from the cap and the metallic mouth. The bottle is

opened, forming this hollow vacuum, filled with calm waters ready for me to

partake.

I then close the lid. And turn my bottle in circles. Its body is silver but blurred.

Not clear like mirrors. It was probably created in this way to prevent the sight of

obvious scratches and what not. But it reflects beautiful vague patterns when

lights hit it. I perceive an art piece whenever that happens.

This bottle of mine has been with me for the past year everywhere and

everyday. Yes it has dents, and yes it leaks at times in my bag (which frustrates

me) and yes it looks old and worn out. But it has become a part of me

unknowingly. Writing this essay has hit me with realization that this bottle has

been a part of my life. Containing one of the very most essential things for human

beings to survive.